On a festive night in Garnt's village, the familiar face of the woman who had served Garnt and her two step-children found herself tending to a sizzling pot of meat. Her face wore a weary and uncomfortable look, but before she stood the two youngsters, Garnt and the others, celebrating a hard-earned victory – the safe return of the first batch of iron ore.
The atmosphere was tinged with a hint of awkwardness, but Garnt, with a concerned look, turned to her. "Ganna, how's life been treating you here? Did you find someone you fancy?"
She forced a smile. "It's fine, I couldn't find someone, but I will try," she replied, avoiding his gaze.
It was evident that even after all these years, she had not been able to move past her past crimes of forcing Unami and Baktou into that situation, which made their lives a living hell.
Garnt persisted, his voice softer. "Are you going to be alone after all this time?"
